Begin, Again
by X-MJ-X
Summary: He held out his hand to her, "Harvey Specter, hopelessly in love with Donna Paulsen." She took it, "Donna Paulsen, very much in love with Harvey Specter." It's after the wedding and it's time. They need to begin, again.


**Thanks for all your reviews on my fic Dolce, here's another 'Donna and Harvey should be together and we all know it' fic.**

 **I do not own Suits, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

He didn't recognise the song, but he liked it. It brought him comfort to know that one of the take-aways of his friendship with Mike Ross would be the younger man's appreciation for the finer things: the right woman, a great suit, good taste in music. His eyes flicked over to his young friends and he tried not to dwell on the sadness which felt barely contained. They looked happy. This day and the decision they had made making them so. Who was he to bring his own selfishness into it? and yet, in typical Harvey Specter fashion he was just about to wallow in the self-pity which seemed to come so naturally to him when he felt the woman in his own arms shift and suddenly, there was nothing else. Only her.

His fingers rested lightly on her waist in the lightest touch and yet his fingertips felt as if they were on fire. He felt the weight of her forearm around his neck, felt the puff of her breath against his skin as she rested her chin on his shoulder and had to draw in a steadying breath as his nostrils filled with the scent of her. It was new. Probably bought for the wedding: heady and warm. _Donna._

Seeming to sense the unspoken utterance of her name, she squeezed her fingers tighter around his, naturally shifting their joined hands closer to their resting place over her heart as her thumb stroked across his knuckles comfortingly.

"It'll be Ok Harvey," she said, her voice breaking into his private reverie.

He didn't say anything, simply flexed the fingers at her waist, an acknowledgement that he had heard her.

It had taken them a long time to get to this place. They'd been avoiding each other since she had returned to the firm. The Paula situation still hung between them. Neither of them had dared to mention the choice he made, not wishing to attempt unravelling the significance of him showing up at her door.

" _Are you OK?"_

" _Will you come back?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Then I'm Ok."_

His heart seized at the thought that he had almost lost her that night. That his own stupidity almost lost him the only good thing left in his life, the only constant. He still couldn't quite believe that they were here now pressed tightly together on the dance floor, that she just appeared when he thought he was going to lose it. He shouldn't be surprised, she'd always had an uncanny ability to be there right when he needed her, and he'd never once thanked her. Always just taken her for granted. Basically, he was an idiot.

He closed his eyes for a moment, the knowledge that the song was ending filling his mind. He wondered if that meant their fragile truce would be broken, that the moment would be over.

* * *

The band played the final notes and sure enough he felt her draw back. He panicked. It was happening too fast, she was flashing him a tentative grin, inclining her head towards the bar. He grabbed her hand as she turned away from him and as she spun back towards him, surprised at the feel of his hand on her bare skin, she collided with his torso.

Her eyes searched his, she was confused, thrown by the strength of his grip, the wilderness of his eyes which were currently doing everything in their power not to meet hers. She relaxed her hand, hoping that he would be reassured, know that she didn't want to move away from him. She waited, sensing that he had something he needed to say.

"Don't leave me," he said. The words were quiet, but she could hear the desperation in them.

She smiled, radiating warmth not teasing. "I'm right here," she said, her hand slipping up the back of his neck, her fingertips caressing the soft hairs there. It was a gesture which came as naturally to her as breathing and yet, the intimacy of it jolted her. What was she doing? Her fingers recoiled quickly, but, since he was still holding her other hand, she remained rooted to the spot.

"I don't just mean tonight Donna," he said.

She drew back a little, the better to see his eyes. She kept waiting for the punch line. It didn't come.

She swallowed, hard. "Neither do I." _Please don't toy with my heart._

He didn't respond. The music started up again. He reached for her, his hands sliding around her again. Her hip bumped against his. He felt a stirring of long denied desire, he knew he should quell it. He didn't want to.

* * *

"I've been a fool," he said glancing over her shoulder and spotting Mike and Rachel.

The young couple were swaying to the music, their bodies close as theirs were. It struck him that if it weren't for Donna, this day wouldn't even have happened. She was always tending to the happiness of others – the Rosses, Louis, Hell, she knew every one of his own quirks and pleasures, knew how to make him smile, lighten a situation in a way only she could. Who did that for her? Certainly not him. Sure, he flirted with her, complimented her, revered her in the office but he also let her down. He was never man enough to tell her that all those times he told her she was hot, he meant she made him hot, could never admit that when she entered a room not a damned other person in there even registered to him. He was good at bolstering her, but he could drop her like a lead balloon and walk away in time to remain unscathed by the terminal disappointment he caused. It had never been intentional. He'd be the first to admit that she was the most important person in his life, it was just that he'd always viewed her as untouchable. Put it down to her rules – which he'd been quick to observe the second he'd brought her with him to work for Jessica – or down to the fact that he knew that she was a God damn Queen and he was just the court jester, but he'd never felt good enough for her and so their blurry relationship had always seemed like the consolation prize and he settled for it. Not anymore. He wanted to be her person, just as she was his. He wanted her to look at him the way that Rachel was looking at Mike, like there was only the two of them in the world.

She drew in a steadying breath which released shakily. "Let me count the ways…" she said, trying to lighten the moment. She wasn't sure where this was going, but either way, she wasn't sure that she was ready to go there.

"Donna…" she couldn't tell if he was impatient, or if he just wanted to keep saying her name. Either way she liked the way it sounded in his rich timbre. Focus. She could not let her mind go there, not tonight.

"Harvey," she said mirroring him.

"Can I be honest with you?" he said, his lips close to her hairline.

"Always," she said _but you never are._

"That night… when you kissed me…"

"Harvey…"

"When you kissed me Donna, you have to know, I didn't want you to stop. I was surprised, sure, but I didn't want it to end. Then when you pulled away and apologised, I came to my senses. I definitely didn't want it to end, but I reacted the way I did afterwards because…"

"…because despite all of your bravado, you're a good guy Harvey. I knew you were never going to kiss me back, I knew you were off limits and I did it anyway…"

"You're not hearing me Donna. I wanted to kiss you, I wanted to do _more_ than kiss you – I wanted you know that, he paused, something in his demeanour changing as he switched tact. "That night I told Paula right away, but when I got into bed beside her…" he felt her flinch at that "the only person I was thinking about was you. I just wanted to call you, I wanted to show up at your door in the middle of the night and kiss you like there was no tomorrow. I wanted you to know that you're the one that I wanted. But you said you were sorry for kissing me and I knew that meant you regretted it…"

"No," she said, her head over his shoulder giving her the perfect excuse to avoid eye contact.

"I mean, I was sorry for what that kiss meant for you, sure – sorry that I put you in that position, but actually kissing you? I wasn't apologising for that. I told you, _I had to know_ , and I knew the second our lips touched." She grew quiet, not going any further.

"Knew what?" he said, his heart pounding. _Please be braver than I have ever been._

"That you were, _are_ , it for me Harvey. My person, but not like this…"

* * *

She disengaged herself from him, throwing a briefly apologetic wave in Rachel's direction, trying to keep her smile in place when all she wanted was to give into her tears. She'd promised her friend that she would take care of the suite where they'd gotten ready earlier. At least she had some purpose that way, something to take her mind off the emotional landmine she was leaving on the dancefloor. She made it out into the lobby, her finger punching at the elevator call button before she heard his swift footsteps behind her.

"Donna wait!" he called as she was entering the elevator and so help her, she couldn't refuse him when he called.

She retraced her steps, careful to remain at an acceptable distance from him. "What Harvey?"

"Why not like this?" he asked, taking a step towards her, she retreated. He tried not to be hurt by that.

She laughed then, a rough emotion fuelled sound. "Come on Harvey, you really want to be that guy? The cliched bachelor of a certain age, sitting alone at the wedding, scanning the room for the best of the bunch of spinsters sitting at the pity table… because if you do, I've got to hand it to you Harvey, you really know how to make a girl feel special."

"That isn't how it is and you know it."

"Do I?"

"You should."

"Oh, you mean because of the hundreds of times you've made it clear that I'm the person you're thinking about. 'I love the way you organise my case load Donna', 'thanks for sending flowers for my cousin's birthday Donna', really makes a girl feel wanted Harvey. I get it. Mike and Rachel are leaving and you're panicking, but you don't have to worry about me Harvey. I think we've established I'm not going anywhere. I'm a sure thing. No feelings from you required."

She began walking away, but he grabbed her arm, forcing her to stay put. "I can't believe that you would say that to me. I can't believe that you could think that you were anything but my first choice. I've been making you my God damn first choice for years. Every woman I've ever been with has known it, except you apparently."

"Choosing me because you can't live without my filing system is not the same thing as choosing _me_ Harvey," she didn't know why she was being so cold. Years of practise in the arts of the many ways this man could disappoint her she supposed - an act of self-preservation.

"That wasn't why I chose you, why I will always choose you and you know it Donna."

"Then why?" her eyes were blazing now, she was fuelled by anger, stubbornness, hurt. She was fuelled by the fourteen years she'd been falling for this man with no one to catch her.

He drew back just a little then, making sure he held her gaze. _"You know I love you Donna,"_ he said and just like all those years ago, the second he said the words, she was watching him go.

* * *

She was busying herself with the detritus of today's flurry of activity. Her shoes laid by the door and her toes curled into the plush rug at her feet as she packed away stray bottles of make- up, brushes, random articles of clothing. She zipped everything into the holdall she'd promised Rachel she would pass along in the morning. Once the task was complete, she had nothing else to keep her busy and so, feeling rather sorry for herself, she flopped down onto the bed. She drew in a lengthy sigh, releasing it and attempting to let go of all the feelings which raged in her mind. It hadn't worked. He was still there at the forefront of her every waking moment, just like always.

In the humming silence, she listened - hoping to hear footfalls in the hall outside but being rewarded by nothing more than the sound of her own breathing. He didn't even know her room number. Why would he even come, after the way she had dismissed him? Twice now, he'd told her he loved her, twice she had watched him walk away. Those admissions didn't, of course, mean that she forgave him for all the times he'd been too blind to see that she'd been standing right by his side for fourteen years longing for him, but she knew it took a lot for Harvey to say those words and she'd never heard he say he loved a woman – except her. Twice. God, she was such an idiot.

Part of her was going to let it pass, to fall into fitful sleep and wake up tetchy in the morning, part of her knew that this was the only way for them to return to their new normal, but was that what she wanted?

All those weeks ago, when she'd kissed him, she'd had her reasons for not being honest. She had sensed that he hadn't wanted her to be and frankly it had been easier to blame Paula, to accept that she would always only be Donna to him, but now? She hadn't dated anyone in… years. He was single. He'd made himself so the night he'd chosen her. What rational man did that unless there was a stake in it for him? They didn't. Which meant only one thing. Even then, when he couldn't tell her, he'd been telling her. _You're an idiot Paulsen._

He may not know her room number. May not be ready to come to her door even if he did, but she was Donna. She knew everything. Room 512. Two floors up, south facing with a view of the park. She took care of his every need even when it wasn't her job to anymore.

She grabbed the phone on the nightstand, punched in the number for his room, let it ring once, twice. She slammed it down. This wasn't something you did over the phone.

 _Woman up Paulsen._

She slipped her feet back into her heels, feeling them groan at being forced back into the shoes and grabbed her purse, her key card, heading towards the elevator bank.

* * *

Faced with the white door, its brass numbers, she was suddenly unsure. If she took this risk tonight, it meant they could never go back. Expressing how she felt, telling him the truth, that would be too hard to recover from if he didn't forgive her for being such a fool, for lying after she kissed him. She knew how Harvey felt about liars.

She steeled herself, drawing in a breath and raised her hand to the door. One knock, two and he still didn't come to the door. She deserved it. She hadn't known she had that much coldness in her, hadn't known that he meant that much to her that she had to say the very worst things she could imagine to him just to protect herself. _Well, that was a lie_.

"Harvey?" she called tentatively, clearing her throat. "Harvey?" Still no answer.

"Ok," she said, her palm resting against the door. "You have a right to be mad. I understand that. I'm just going to go ahead and say this and then I'll go if that's what you want."

"I've been a damn fool Harvey and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you downstairs in the lobby. I'm sorry for pushing you away and I'm sorry for lying to you when I kissed you. It was selfish and stupid, but it was also the best thing I have ever done and my only regret is that I didn't tell you right then and there what I wanted you to know: that I wanted you to choose me right there in that moment. I wanted you to see me standing there in front of you and to know, like I did with you that I was the one that you should be with. God Harvey, please, just let me in…" she slapped her palm against the door in frustrated resignation. "Well, Ok. I've said it. I guess I'll go." She retreated up the hall, her head hung a little in shame. What if the whole corridor had heard? She called an elevator and perched on the edge of one of the sofas by the bank of them, waiting.

* * *

It seemed to be taking forever, each floor slipping slowly by on its ascent, but then it was there and she was stepping into it without looking and suddenly found herself colliding with a familiar torso.

"Donna?" he seemed surprised, guiding her back out on to the floor, gripping her arms.

Her face broke into a watery smile and suddenly tears were falling, her arms circling his neck, her fingers slipping into his hair as she pressed his mouth close to his ear. "I love you," she murmured and it felt good to say the words after all this time. Finally.

She heard his breath hitch, felt his arms squeeze a little tighter around her and she cried harder. "God, I'm sorry…" she said because she really was – for all the wasted years, for the mess of everything now.

"Hey…" he said, taking her hand in his, closing his fist around her fingers "it's Ok," he said, already guiding her back down the corridor, towards his room.

"No, it isn't. I came up here with some grandiose idea to tell you how I feel and the only people to hear it were the other guests on this floor…"

"What?" he asked, watching her cheeks flame. "How long have you been waiting?"

She sucked in a breath, blowing it out in an attempt to calm herself down. "Fourteen years and oh, about ten minutes. Five of which were just spent talking to your door…"

He laughed, she socked him in the arm from behind. That felt good. It felt like them. "That's a long time," he said, scanning his key card and letting them in to the room. He tried not to physically jump for joy that she didn't resist.

"It is," she said, every one of her senses filling up with him in the darkness.

* * *

He broke away from her, snapping on the overhead light. She blinked hard, adjusting to its baldness, then feeling her heart drop as she realised what she must look like. "I must look a sight huh?" she said, scrubbing a hand over the drying tracks of her tears, noticing the smear of her not-so waterproof mascara on her fingers.

"Are you kidding? You look so God damned beautiful right now Donna."

"Sure. If puffy cheeks and panda eyes are your thing."

"That's not what I see."

"No?"

"No." He was standing close to her, but there was still some distance between them. His eyes flicked to her lips, back to her eyes. "I see the woman I love."

He reached for her then, wanting nothing more than to kiss her, but she placed a hand on his chest, stopping his advance at the last moment. "I'm sorry Harvey," she needed him to know that.

"You said that already."

"I mean it. I said some hurtful things to you, I didn't mean them."

"Donna, it doesn't matter. As I recall, I haven't always behaved admirably towards you either…There's only one thing I want you to know."

"What's that?"

"You're the best-looking spinster in the bunch," he said, ducking as she socked him again. "Seriously though, you couldn't have been more wrong. I adore you Donna. That's all there is to it."

She allowed herself a small smile. It was nice to be adored. "Me, wrong?"

He smiled, letting his hand settle on her waist. This time she didn't pull away. "How's it feel?"

She concentrated on the stroking of his fingers on her bare back, wondering if there had ever been a better feeling. "Pretty great actually," she said.

"Can we start over?"

She nodded.

"Harvey Specter, hopelessly in love with Donna Paulsen," he introduced himself, offering her his hand. She played along, taking it.

"Donna Paulsen, very much in love with Harvey Specter." They shook on it. Tension crackled in the air between them. Neither one had let go of the other's hand.

"Donna…"

"Hmm?"

"Can I kiss you right now?"

"I think you'd better," she said, her eyes darkening as she looked at him.

"Oh, thank God," he said as he pulled her close, winding his arms around her back and letting his lips fall onto hers in a kiss that was neither apologetic or fast.

* * *

He nipped at her closed lips with his own, tugging the skin in slow, measured movements. Her head angled towards him slightly and her top lip slipped to his bottom lip. He let her tease him a moment before running his tongue along the seam of her lips, begging silent entry into her mouth. Her hand slipped to his lower back, her fingers bunching his expensive jacket and she finally granted him access.

Her tongue tangled with his instantly, running along its length, caressing the soft walls of his mouth and tasting the tang of expensive scotch. It was a taste she had always associated with him and now she had experienced it in the flesh. He stroked back against her, his tongue exploring the cavern of her and he couldn't help but sigh contentedly. She was everything he remembered and so much more.

The kiss was becoming frenzied, he could hear the change in the rhythm of her breathing, felt the urgent movement of her body against his as she cleaved him to her, trying anything to extend the kiss, to deepen it.

He responded, pulling her tighter against him, their pelvises colliding and making them both groan. He knew then that he never wanted this to stop, never wanted to be without her again. His hands slid to her shoulder blades and he began to walk them backwards a few steps towards the door, pressing her against it. She arched her back, her pelvis rolling towards his and the feel of her against his growing desire caused him to break the kiss. "Donna," he muttered, his lips falling to the space just below her ear, ghosting their way along the column of her neck. "I want you." She didn't answer, simply hooked her leg around his waist, her hands slipping into the lapels of his jacket.

He bothered away at her neck, her collarbone, his tongue and lips teasing her flesh as she worked the jacket down his arms, pushing it from his shoulders and watching it fall to his elbows. He halted his attentions long enough to tug it off and when he turned back towards her, she was using her fingertips to guide his head back to hers, her mouth seeking his again.

His fingers slid back to her neck, going higher and reached for the bobby pins that held her up-do in place. Her own were at work on the knot of his tie, loosening it just enough that she could get it over his head and necessarily breaking the kiss again. He ground closer to her and heard the moan which escaped her, watched as her hand slid into her hair, working out the last of the style and causing it to tumble around her shoulders.

"Jesus Harvey, I want you," she said her voice barely recognisable for all its heavy lust.

* * *

Her fingers were shaky on the top button of his shirt, her thoughts distracted by the assault he was currently waging on her mouth, her jaw, her neck. She rolled the button between her fingers, popping it open and leaned in close to him, her lips tasting the skin there.

She popped the second button, the next, exposing him slowly and lavishing his skin with attention. He was all lightly tanned perfection and heady aftershave. His chest was smooth and she couldn't help but run her fingers along the path she was gradually creating with her mouth. She just wanted to touch him, to know that this was more than a fantasy.

He watched her with a slightly bemused expression, his eyes following the path of her fingers until they settled on the fastening of his pants. He reached between them, taking her fingers in his and drawing them to his lips, he brushed a kiss to them. Yep. Definitely real.

"You look so beautiful in that dress Donna," he said, his eyes running up and down her body, taking in the inky folds, the barely-there straps, the plunging neckline. That dress was meant to entice a man of weak heart like him and boy, was it working. Hugging every one of her delicious curves, it left little to the imagination and yet, he knew, with this woman, the mystery would never cease.

"Charmer," she said, but her grin betrayed how good she felt.

"It's the truth."

"Thank you," she said leaning in to kiss him, just because she could, at last.

"Aren't you going to compliment me on my suit?" he said.

"Oh, I didn't realise that we were playing 'go fish'…" He squeezed her in response.

"Besides," she said, "I have a feeling you'll look better out of it…" he hands had slipped inside the collar of his shirt, attempting to guide it off but he stopped her.

"Now, there's an idea Ms. Paulsen…" he said and his tone sent bolts of electricity right through her. "May I?" he said, his fingers already on her invisible zipper.

"Do you really have to ask?" he smiled at that.

"Turn around," he said, his voice quiet with the gravity of the moment. Twelve and a half years he'd had to live with the memory of her body – the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, the warm welcome he'd received as he'd entered her. He didn't want to ruin this moment, to lessen the importance of it.

She complied, spinning slowly, feeling his right arm settle on her hip as his left hand worked the zipper. She felt the material give, felt his fingers blaze a trail across the exposed skin of her back and she shut her eyes, enjoying the sensation.

He was muttering her name, his lips pressing tantalisingly against her spine, his fingers sliding beneath the slackened bodice and making their way to her stomach. She settled her head against his shoulder, giving herself over to the pleasure of his touch, angling her head just enough to kiss his jaw.

* * *

Those fingers of his were not idle for long, moving slowly up her body, until her eyes flew open. "Harvey, I'm not wearing…" just as she was about to finish the sentence she felt his warm fingertips tweak her nipple.

"Oh!" he'd obviously made that discovery on his own.

"You were saying?" he said swirling his fingers against her, teasing the sensitive peak of her.

"What? What was I saying?" she said, barely able to string a coherent thought together.

"Come here," he said, spinning her back towards him and waiting for her eyes to open.

"I think you may be trying to kill me Donna," he said, staring unashamedly at her breasts, noting the way her nipples had hardened against the flimsy slack fabric.

He dropped to his knees, gaining a better angle for what her body just seemed to be crying out for. He was not one to hold out on a woman's needs, especially not this one: not ever again. He moved in closer to her, his breath puffing against the fabric and let his mouth cover the prominent peak of her left breast over the dress. The silk caused the slightest warmth of friction against his tongue as he ran it over her and her fingers dug into his shoulder, holding him in place. As if he'd want to be anywhere but here.

He teased her for a few seconds, switching his attention to her right breast. This time, he openly kissed her over the dress, the wetness of his mouth tightening the fabric and making her nipple pebble further. As he heard her mutter his name, he sank his teeth around her for just a moment and felt her jolt against him. Prepared for this, his arm shot out around her and, as he pulled himself to his feet - ignoring the groan of his knees - he wrapped his arm around her waist, steadying her.

"You…" she said, her hand sliding up the back of his neck, pulling him in for another long, slow kiss. She never did finish that sentence.

* * *

His fingers were already at the spaghetti strap on her right shoulder and, as he began to draw back from the kiss, finally letting her remove his shirt in the process, he began to slide it down. He watched the dress slacken further, his eyes raking over the soft smattering of freckles on her skin and he could barely resist grabbing for the other strap before he noticed that she had beaten him to it.

The dress gave in, tumbling down her body in a fluid cascade and crumpling around her feet. She kicked it away immediately, her eyes locking with his – filled with mirth, challenge and pride.

"Wow," he said, his voice shaky. His pupils must be huge right now, he thought, trying to draw in a steadying breath as he took in the sight of the delicious woman in front of him. She was all burnished bronze hair, white skin and delicate freckles. She stood before him, her hands fidgeting, flexing across her stomach in a slightly self-conscious way wearing nothing but a pair of black lacy panties and her heels. She was the most glorious woman he had ever laid eyes on, she was his. Donna.

"Oh come on," she said, laughing a little nervously. "Are you so surprised? I was on a juice cleanse for a week just to fit all of this," she ran her hand down the side of her breast, along her waist, across her hip, "in there," she cast her eyes towards the discarded dress. "Nothing else was legitimately getting in there."

He had yet to say a word, his face however, was telling her everything she needed to know. The myriad of expressions that crossed the face she knew almost as well as her own told their own story. He adored her. She could see that, clear as day.

"Donna, you are…" words seemed to fail him again, he signalled to her to turn around. She did a slowly revolving twirl. "So sexy," he muttered, his chest constricting as he saw the way those panties fit the perfect curve of her bottom.

When they were facing again, she bent her finger, beckoning him. "Come 'mere Harvey," she said, her voice dripping sex. "Touch me," she said and within seconds he was on her, his bare chest pressing against hers, making her almost lose it.

That invitation was the only one he needed, and he instantly began to ghost his fingers up her waist, across the pale globes of her breasts. "You know," he said close to her ear, "even though I remember every second of that night we spent together, I could never have done justice to how incredible you are Donna."

* * *

She didn't respond for a moment, instead revelling in the knowledge that that night had clearly meant as much to him as it had to her. She could still recall the way she felt when she'd heard the first spray of that whipped cream, still remembered the way his hot tongue had felt as he'd swirled it around her navel, up the inside of her thigh, plundering inside her. Most of all though, she'd held on to the memory of the way he'd looked moments after they had recovered from their exploits. It was such a pure, unmoderated look of fascination that it couldn't have been a lie. It was the way he was looking at her now.

"Every second?" she said, working her hand between them, sliding it down his fantastically honed torso towards his button fly. "Even when I…" she broke off, popping the button. She pushed the pants a little further apart, slipping her hand inside "with the last of the cream?" she said.

"I admit that's a little hazy," he said, his head arching back a little as she ran a hand over him, "but I remember your name was the only word I could think of afterwards…" That name slipped from his lips now.

"Take off your shoes Harvey," she said, not ceasing in her ministrations over his underwear. He did just that, losing his socks too.

* * *

She smiled. This man was whipped and not just with cream this time. Her hands slid further into his pants, pushing them over his hips. They rumpled, he stumbled a little, reaching out for her in the process as he stepped out of them.

"There," she said as he cleaved her to him, pecking his lips gently "now we're even."

He responded by angling his leg around hers, pressing their pelvises closer together.

"My, my Harvey, someone's eager."

"Like I said, fourteen years is a long time," he practically growled.

She laughed, a light and lilting sound. "Don't forget the ten minutes…"

"As if I ever could." He was suddenly aware of her efforts to walk him back, giving himself over to her wishes.

* * *

His calves hit the lip of the loveseat and he sank down onto it, his hand sliding into hers and causing her to follow him down in one swift motion. She wrapped her thighs around his, pressed herself down onto him. They cried out. The friction of the fabric driving them crazy, their barely concealed mutual desire never more present than it was right now.

"You think this is why its called a love seat?" she said, throwing her hair back off her face and seeking his lips again.

"No idea. But that's the reasoning I'm going with," he said, lifting her ever so slightly as they broke apart, all the better to allow his lips to finally reacquaint themselves with her breasts.

She felt like Heaven. Soft and dewy, the taste of her peaks simultaneously sweet and rich. It was a flavour he'd never been able to get out of his mind. Now he knew why: it was her. Donna. He kissed her unapologetically, appreciating the way she slowly rose to meet his mouth, those bountiful breasts bouncing in reward for his attention.

Her hand was splayed on his back, her fingertips curling slightly, scratching at the skin. She could feel desire pooling between her legs, was all too aware of the way he pressed against the apex of her thighs, the promise of him, the promise of release for this twelve and half year-old tension. She began to shift restlessly, her hand working between them and going for her panties. She had succeeded in getting them over her right hip before he pulled back, his attentions ceasing with a pop.

"Not like this Donna," he said, scooping her closer and lifting her.

* * *

All that yoga – her effort to release her body's pent up tension – came in handy in that moment. Her legs wrapped around him. She felt utterly safe in his arms as he began to walk them towards the bed. Halfway across the room, her shoe hit the floor, scaring them both with the abruptness of its drop and making them break apart laughing. She wiggled her other leg, the shoe working loose and joining its partner on the floor. Her jiggling brought them closer together and they both froze.

"Don't do that Donna," he warned but she just shimmied around more, eventually encouraging him to set her on her feet.

"What's the matter Harvey? Am I too much to handle?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"Could be."

"I will win," he said.

"You always do Harvey, it's one of the many things I love about you. You know what I'd love now though?"

"What's that?"

"For you to get on your back Specter."

Jesus. If he wasn't there before, he certainly was now.

"Donna I…"

"Surrender to me Harvey, you know you want to."

She had him there. When it came to her, he could only ever surrender.

He went around the side of the bed, getting on it, settling himself comfortably and trying not to miss her presence like some love-sick puppy.

* * *

He didn't have to wait long. She remained at the foot of the bed, but depressed the mattress, starting a slow crawl up his body. She settled herself astride him, careful that her spread thighs were the only part of her body to touch him.

She kissed him, a lingering kiss, before she let her mouth drop to his jaw, his neck. Her exploration of his body continued, taking in his collarbone, his chest, sinking to his abdominals which remained tight thanks to his rigorous workout regimen. She intended to become a regular part of that workout process, just like this.

She pressed her tongue to the crevices between his muscles, kissed her way along the dusting of hair at his lower abdomen, leading her lower. Brazenly, she slipped his underwear down and watched as he sprang free.

* * *

She shifted back a little, curling her body into the space between his thighs and ran her hand up him, base to tip. Feeling him shiver in pleasure, she lent forward, kissing him.

She worked him over slowly. She would be taking her time with him. Last time, he had teased her to distraction. Pay back would be sweet. He felt fantastic. She concentrated on the way he responded to her touch, the heat of her mouth, the caress of her tongue. He bucked towards her after a particularly skilful sweep of her tongue and she was suddenly overwhelmingly aware of how she must look to him from his vantage point: back arched down towards the bed, bottom in the air. She'd bet he was loving it.

He curled up towards her and she thought that maybe she had brought him to the edge, but then she realised he was trying to reach for her. She punished him with a teasing stroke of her tongue and she felt him collapse back, defeated. She could feel his frenzy and finished her attentions with a flourish at last revelling in the taste of him as he surrendered.

She was still astride him, her fingers stroking casually against his throat, down his torso, when he opened his eyes.

"Hey there," she said, satisfied with her herself. She lent down to kiss him, surprised when he allowed her to.

It was certainly a new sensation, the taste of himself mingled with the taste of her but he found it was one he liked. They were good together. This was hardly news. Except maybe to him, until recently.

* * *

"You were tense huh?" she said, wriggling against him, feeling him stir.

"Can you blame me?" he said, groaning as she circled herself over him. "Donna…"

She smiled, angling herself up a little, going for her panties again.

"You really want to get naked don't you?" he said with a laugh.

"You really don't want me to get naked do you?" she said, hurt registering in her eyes.

"Are you kidding?" he said, sliding his hands around her back, rolling her towards him and flipping their positions in a deft movement. "Maybe you didn't realise, but I have been undressing you with my eyes all night. You really think I'm going to pass up the opportunity to take off all your clothes for real?" he said, watching her indignation at finding herself on her back, the light dusting of hair on his thighs tickling at her smooth ones. She didn't answer, got the sense that he wasn't done.

"So damn straight I want you naked, I want you writhing beneath me, calling my name, but I'll be the one to do it. Besides, you know me Donna, I play fair."

"No, you do what it takes to win."

"Same difference. You did something amazing for me. Now, I'm going to rock your world Paulsen," he said.

His hands had already trailed her abdomen, were at her hips, his fingertips playing with the lace trim. "What're you waiting for?" she said, lifting her hips.

* * *

He surprised them both in the next moment, taking the flimsy material in his hands and tearing it completely. She let out a gasp, a cry of protest, but then he whipped the ruined panties from her body and she felt the lick of air against her burning skin and suddenly those panties meant nothing to her: they had been an unwelcome distraction.

He rocked himself back a little, taking the opportunity to look at her in all her glory. Their years apart had only made her more beautiful, she was truly stunning and he was finding it incredibly hard not to be filled with the regret he felt at having denied them both what he knew they were feeling now. He wondered briefly, as he pressed a kiss to her collar bone, whether he would ever get enough of her.

His lips grazed freckles, creamy skin, pink flesh and he knew the answer. No amount of time with her would ever be enough. She was restless: both wanton and wanting. His name was already tumbling from her lips and he had only just begun his attentions. He was at her midriff now his tongue flattening against a tiny constellation of freckles that were probably his favourites. He pushed his lips to the muscles as they tightened and focused on the feel of her fingers digging into the back of his head.

He had shifted back further, his body positioned over her legs, his mouth hovering over her. He glanced up at her, taking in her tightly clenched eyes, the twist of her mouth as she battled with pleasure and torment. She was gorgeous.

He let his breath puff against her, taking in the intoxicating scent of her a moment, his mind flooded with memories: the rolling moan, the gasp of his name, the first taste of her mingled with the sweetness of cream. He ran a hand slowly up her knee, along the inside of her thigh now. The action only seemed to make her body tense further, her knees clamping together.

"Open your legs Donna," he said, his tone heavy with the thousand ways he wanted her.

He eyes flew open, her body arcing towards him. "You're so bad," she said, her voice thick with need. Her legs fell away from each other nonetheless.

"…and you're so ready…." he said, his fingers slowly tickling down the crease of her leg, slipping between the slight dusting of curls. He groaned as he slid a finger slowly up the seam of her, feeling her buck towards him.

He drew his finger out of her slowly, bringing it to his lips and sucking. "Just as I remember," he said tasting the spice of her.

"I highly doubt that," she said, her own memory burning with the sensation of sticky cold cream, the feel of his tongue swirling through it.

"Maybe you're right. I think I'll have to investigate further," he said, his head dipping between her legs.

"Wait, Harvey…"

"What is it?" he said, halting as he flicked his eyes back to hers. They were sparkling. He relaxed a little.

"Don't you usually have your associates do your investigative work?"

He shot her a look, she flashed him a smiled. "You should know by now, when I have a particularly important case, I devote all of my time to it. Personally."

"The personal touch…" she didn't have time to finish her retort before his tongue had slipped inside her.

* * *

She cried out, her hips shooting up from the bed. He gripped her, holding her fast as he pressed his mouth to her, loving the way she tasted, the way she felt. The walls of her were going crazy, contracting against his efforts, making him work ten times harder to please her.

Blood pounded in his ears, the room seemed to buzz with the heaviness of the moment, the unadulterated passion of her exultations and all he was aware of way the way she said his name, the way her body responded with each minute adjustment of his touch. She was it for him, his person and, judging by the way she cried his name as she fluttered around him, he was hers.

She seemed better able to practise control than he had been and it was several long minutes before he felt her begin to relax, heard the change in her voice as she neared her edge. As she went crashing over it, her nails sank into his skin, certainly marking him, possibly even having drawn blood. He didn't care. She was worth it.

* * *

He had shifted back up her body, his lips scuffing kisses along her ribcage, over her breasts as her chest heaved and she came down. By the time he reached her head again, she had opened her eyes. He was pretty sure he could see tear stained tracks slipping down her face. He leant forward, kissing them. "Hey," he soothed, kissing her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her lips.

She responded to the kiss, her arm circling his neck, her tongue sweeping his mouth. She shifted, her body creating an arc for his as their pelvises ground together. They broke apart with a start, a mutual groan filling the room.

"I didn't know," she said as he looked at her, stroking her face.

"Didn't know what?"

"Just how much I missed you. Until right now."

"We haven't exactly been ourselves lately huh?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

"For not being brave enough to tell you that night, or when you asked me – that I wanted you. That I love you Harvey."

He kissed her again, a tender kiss filled with all the years of making up they had to do. "You're telling me now and I'm telling you, I love you Donna Paulsen."

* * *

That radiant smile that lit up her face made every year and every stupid mistake they'd ever made feel like it was a lifetime ago, that it had happened to somebody else. Looking at her now, her hair fanned out around her, her face contented and filled with love, he never wanted to be without her again. She shifted again, her leg wrapping around his waist and he felt himself stir against her thigh.

"Donna, I didn't come here expecting… this," he said. It was a conversation they needed to have, although the thought of not being inside of her was almost unthinkable.

"Neither did I Harvey, but I want it. I want you. I think we've both spent enough years trying to deny it. We're hardly spring chickens anymore. Besides, I'm on the pill. I just want you tonight. Ok?"

He leaned down to kiss her again. "Ok," he said, angling his hips just so and slipping into the welcoming heat of her.

She felt phenomenal. She was soft and warm and everything he'd always known she was. He waited a beat, two, registering the change in her face as she adjusted to him. She rolled her hips slowly and he took this as encouragement to continue.

He moved against her, into her with long slow strokes, his hand trailing from the underside of her breast, down to her waist, back up again. He pressed kisses to her jaw, her closed eyes. Now that he was inside of her, he knew he could not last long. He was never going to the first time they gave in. No matter. There was plenty of time for afternoons of languorous love-making.

She seemed to sense that he was waiting for her to look at him and her eyes flew open.

"Donna…"

She reached between them, dragging his hand to her lips. She nodded. "Come with me Harvey," she said.

After that there was only her.

* * *

"I'd say that was a particularly great wedding," he said as he ran his hand up and down her bare back.

"All in the organisation," she said.

He squeezed her. "I thought you might say that."

"I'm just stating facts."

"You are incredible. There's another fact for you."

"This is true," she smiled, kissing his chest. "You're pretty wonderful yourself you know."

He reached down to kiss her: a long languid goodnight kiss. It was getting late. They'd been up hours. His body was spent. He saw her flick her eyes towards the light which was still on. Chivalrous as ever, he got out of bed, ignoring her protest as he did and snapped it off.

He hurried back to bed and she snuggled in close to him, finding his lips in the dark. "I love you," she said. It still hadn't gotten old yet. Would it ever?

"I love you too," he said, giving himself over to the first restful sleep he'd had in months.

* * *

The shrill ringing woke her with a start. In her deliciously dreamy state of post-coital bliss, it took her a while to register what it was. The first time it happened it ceased a short time later, only to start up again.

Phone.

She stirred, shifting, attempting to get out of bed. He wrapped his arm more tightly around her waist, preventing her from moving. "Ignore it," he muttered. God, he was sexy like this, half asleep and holding her. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. It _was_ the most natural thing in the world.

She considered the virtues of following his advice, particularly as after a couple more seconds the call ceased again. The caller had her lulled into a false sense of security, the phone blared into life again. She patted his arm, encouraging him to release her, which he did with much protest. She got out of bed quickly, taking a loose sheet with her and wrapping it around herself as she scrambled around for her purse. It was exactly where she must have dropped it when he'd kissed her. She pulled out her phone, staring at the caller ID.

"Shit!" was that really the time? "Rachel," she said as she watched him shoot her a quizzical look, propped up with his hands behind his head, the sheets thrown lazily across his midriff. He looked so damned good…

"Rach, hi, sorry, hi," she rambled, exiting to the en-suite quickly.

"Hey, what kind of a heavy sleeper are you?" her friend asked with a laugh.

"I wasn't asleep," she said, "I just couldn't get to the phone." _I was too busy in the arms of the man I love_.

"What? Where are you?"

"Where are _you_?" Donna said. She had a sinking feeling about the answer.

"I'm outside the suite. You have my makeup. We're supposed to be at the farewell breakfast Louis insisted upon in a half hour. Help me out here Donna, let me in." The memory of last night flooded back - _'Please Harvey let me in.'_ God she bet the whole floor could hear Rachel outside her door, she bet they were cursing her for not letting her in.

"Give me a couple minutes, I'm on my way."

"What?! Where…"

"Talk to you soon, bye…" she hung up the phone.

* * *

God dammit, she was going to have to do the walk of shame in front of her newly married friend. She'd bet Rachel Ross was just dying to fire twenty questions at her right now.

She took a breath a re-entered the room closing the door behind her. With one hand precariously holding the sheet in place, she began scrabbling around for her underwear.

"Damn it, where are my panties?" she said aloud. He laughed at that, reaching towards the end of the bed and holding them up.

"Here they are, but I don't think they'll be much use to you." She was on him then, snatching the tattered underwear from his hands.

"Damn you and your passion Harvey Specter," she said.

"I didn't hear you complaining last night" he said, his hand running up her forearm suggestively.

"Oh no. I can't. I have to go meet Rachel. I have her makeup in my suite. We're expected at that farewell breakfast Louis organised."

Harvey recoiled at that. "Promise me you'll never mention that name when we're in the throes of passion again."

"We're not in the throes of passion," she admonished.

"Aren't we?" he said, grabbing her and pulling her down on top of him.

"Harvey, no. I can't. I have to go meet Rachel… she already suspects…" she lost her train of thought for a moment as his mouth covered hers.

"Harvey… seriously…. We're going to be late. We can't both be late… everyone will know."

"…and what if they did?"

"I don't date men I work with," she deadpanned extricating herself from his embrace and rushing to find her dress.

"Oh I think we both know that rule was just your way of denying your uncontrollable feelings for me back then."

"Really?" she said, stepping into her dress. "I'm finding it hard to remember any feelings I have for you _now_ what with this smarm offensive of yours…"

"Smarm offensive? I like it. You should coin that."

"I intend to. Now, shut up and zip me," she had returned to his side of the bed and had her back to him. He trailed his finger down the V of the dress, leaning up and pressing his lips to the skin at her lower back.

"Harvey," she warned but she indulged him for a moment.

Her phone rang again, breaking the moment. "I've got to go," she said stepping into her shoes. "How do I look?"

"Like you spent the night being utterly ravaged," his eyes settled on the slight staining on the front of her dress from his attention to the silk.

Her eyes followed his. "God, no!"

He was out of bed then, the sheet falling away and leaving him gloriously naked. She let her eyes appreciate him for a moment before accepting his suit jacket from him and shrugging into it. She turned towards the door. "I'll see you down there Ok?"

She was almost at the door when she felt him tug her back and she collided with his nude profile. "Just a reminder," he said, pressing himself against her, letting him feel how much he wanted her. "Of what you're leaving up here."

"Take a cold shower," she said, running a hand slowly along him and feeling him buck.

Then she was gone.

* * *

She hot-footed it from the elevator along the corridor towards Rachel who was slumped against the door, waiting.

"Sorry, sorry," she called fumbling for her key card.

"Donna… _where_ have you been?" the younger woman said, taking in the appearance of her friend. Dishevelled hair, last night's dress, swollen lips and a big smile. She reminded her of herself when she'd woken up in her husband's arms.

"What? I've… can we go inside please?" she said letting them in.

"Ok, so spill…. Wait a second, I recognise that jacket…. Oh. My. God. You were with Harvey last night weren't you?"

Donna couldn't even deny it. Her smile said it all.

"Donna! What?! What happened… how… how was it?" Rachel was so confused by this morning's turn of events but delighted for her friends.

"It was… So amazing Rach. I told him I love him, he told me he loves me too then we…"

"Spent the night making up for lost time?"

Donna smiled. "Something like that."

Rachel threw her arms around her, pulling her in for a hug.

"So how about you?"

Rachel blushed. "Let's just say I am irrevocably Mrs. Ross… and I…" Rachel glanced at the clock on the wall "am going to be late to my own farewell breakfast," there was some sadness in her words.

"We'll visit," Donna assured her, handing her the black holdall.

"We will."

"I should shower before breakfast… It won't do to turn up like this," Donna indicated her outfit.

"I know one man who would approve."

"A little too much maybe," Donna laughed, letting her friend out of the suite. "See you down there."

* * *

She emerged from the elevator not long afterwards feeling fabulous. She made her way across the lobby, trying her best not to skip. She didn't want to be too obvious. She was just about to open the door to the hotel's dining room when she was suddenly accosted from behind and dragged off to the stairwell.

"Hey there," he said, his hands full of her, searching her body over her dress.

"Hey yourself…"

"The bed got cold without you…"

"Poor you."

"You look sexy as hell Donna," he said appraising her rough up-do, her black button through dress.

"I am gonna enjoyed taking that off you later."

"What makes you think you'll get the chance?" her own eyes were raking over him, taking in his shirt, taught over his torso and open at the neck.

"Oh, I think I'll get the chance."

"Why's that?"

"I just extended our stay by a night. Neither one of us has to be in the office until Monday and I don't feel like working this weekend. I made reservations for tonight. I got tickets…"

"Tickets?" this man knew the way to her heart.

"Mm hmm. Open passes, any show you want."

"You have been a busy boy…"

"I could be busier," his hand was snaking up her thigh.

She leaned towards him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. "Later," she said, breaking away.

He watched her go, her Donna sashay firmly in place. God, he loved this woman.

"Come with me Harvey," she said, a repeat of her words last night and as he found her eyes he realised just how deliberate that had been.

He was done for.

He laced his fingers with hers for a few seconds, preparing to let her go in ahead of him, but then changing his mind at the last minute and tightening his grip on her hand. Not a single one of them had had a damn thing to say, but there were several jaws that still sat on the table.

* * *

They'd just seen Rachel and Mike off. He was more emotional than he'd wanted to be. She hovered close, her hand wound round his bicep.

"So," he said, trying to force so jollity. "Is it a yes Ms. Paulsen, to today?"

She looked at him, shaking her head. "It's a yes… to everything Harvey," she said and suddenly he realised what he should have always known. With her, he really did have everything. It was time for their beginning, again….

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed, I'd love it if you let me know what you thought.**


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